The Turbolift slowed to a stop and the doors slid open onto Deck 1. It was time to check-in with the big boss- the man who was good enough to rescue McDuff his previous Starbase doldrums.
Cameron approached the Captain’s Ready Room door. As he so often did, he stood a moment and straightened out his Uniform, he made sure that everything was in place and as it should be. Satisfied that everything was ship-shape. He pressed the door chime and waited to be called in.
“Yes! Enter!” Glen replied.
The doors swished open.
McDuff stepped through the door and stood to attention.
“Lieutenant McDuff reporting for duty, Sir” He said very formally.
“Take a seat, won’t you?” Glen added, once McDuff had come in.
“Thank you, Sir” He said before sitting down in the seat that the CO had gestured to. “It’s a pleasure to be aboard the Merrimack ”
“I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine Lieutenant,” Glen replied.
“Now then, your personnel file says that you are an outdoor enthusiast,” Glen read. “What on Earth made you join Starfleet and live on a starship?”
“That’s right, Sir. I suppose I was drawn into Starfleet by the same thing that draws most people in - the thrill of adventure. To be out here among the Stars, exploring! It’s a difficult thing to resist.”
“We do see strange new places, and go to wonderful places, that no one has seen before,” Glen replied, “but in between, there are long periods of monotonous travel that test the patience and tolerance, even of those stay-at-home preferring types.”
“And it says that you picked up minor injuries working in Security. Were they work related? And was that while you were in Starfleet? I can’t see how long you’ve been commissioned here,” Glen asked.
“Forgive me, Captain. There are some gaps in my records that I’m working on correcting.” Cameron explained before continuing: “The majority of my little injuries have been picked up at work - just the result of a few years worth of fights and scrapes along the way. The broken right arm was sustained in the Academy. That was the result of me trying to break-up a fight… and not doing very well at it.” He chuckled.
“I see,” Glen replied, thinking to himself of the last time that he had seen actual fisticuffs aboard the Merrimack, and that the Academy must have become a much rougher place since he had attended as Lieutenant Instructor. Then he thought back even further to his own days as an Ensign with his partner in crime, Tom Webb, and remembered all the scrapes that they got into, most of which, luckily, had gone unrecorded.
“So, I guess that I can take from that, that you don’t mind getting stuck in?” Glen added. “Would y say that you are someone who is first to volunteer?”
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